Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1887-03-25
Tales aud Sketfhes.
eRAzIELLA THE MODEL.
CONTINUED from Yesterday

As an exception to her race. her COM
plexion was pink and white, in strong
contrast to the usual dark olive hue OF the
ordinary Neapolitan. Her complexion
was not only fine. but her features were
of the utmost regularity. Coral lips, tiny
mouth, and large. tender eyes. shaded by
| long lashes, arrested the attention OF
passers-by; and not unfrequently poor
Graziella was frightened by the undis-
puised admiration of the unknown who
congregated at the Battery on Sunday
afternoons.
If by chance she was accosted by some
unknown person. she quietly betook her.
self TO another part of the park. to dream
ia peace in the beautiful October sun
light in New York.
These hours Of dolce far niepte became
less and less frequent, however; for Ora
ziella, like her cOmpatriots. was obliged
10 earn her daily bread, which she had
also to share with the old woman to whom
she owed shelter.
To provide for her wants this girl had
two resources; namely, to pose of a
model for artists during the morning,
and in the afternoon to turn the handle Of
a small organ in the most trequentcd
streets.
She had been initiated into the profess
fession of model by Frederic Holt, who
had seen her one day turning the hand
organ opposite the window of Martinilli's
restaurant, where he was dining. Her
natural beauty and simple grace at once
the alert for the picturesque and the beau
tiful. Soon the girl became favorite in
the studios, where by posing three or four
hours daily she was eventually enab, ed to
hire more cheerful room for herself ard
the old woman. whom she would not
abandon in the days of her comparative
prosperity.
Notwithstanding her seeming content
ment, sigh would sometimes escape
from the little Graziella's lips-the mute
expression of longing desire to see her
lover, Salvatore, who was SO far away.
| Her only amusement in the evening was
to count up the little earnings Of the day,
over and above the modest needs of the
small household. An old wooden stock
ing was the receptacle for these coins, and
a dilapidated chest the safety deposit vault
of the stocking.
"And when shall have five hundred
dollars, wonders ?" Graziella would re-
peat to herself with weary, yearning
iteration.
Five hundred dollars
! That was the sum the Young girl had
fixed on to carry back with her to Sorren.
to. 1t was to be the dowry she had set
her heart on-her marriage basket the day
that she should become the legitimate wife
of worthy Salvatore. who in the mean
time was patiently idling awav his time
and awaiting his bride. sleeping under the
orange trees like dormouse
Alas it would take long time vet to
collect five hundred dollars; many pic
sum would be complete.
Frederic Holt felt tender sentimen,
for his little model-a sentiment whose
full meaning be perhaps did not interpret
even to himself. He felt happy when she
was in his studio and loved to hear the
sound of her pleasant little voice and note
the changefui expression in her bright
dazzling ewes. She was only model
yet how dark the studio seemed to grow
when she left it +! what sunshine sht
brought with her, and what lonely lif,
was his!
The day following that of the reception
at the studio, Graziella reappeared &C
cording to her promise. The door being
open, she entered without knocking, tt
find herself quite alone in the room which
the artist had just lett.
On entering soon after, he heard little
cry of joy. and saw his model standing
before a bright oil-sketch hung agains
the wall in a corner usually concea &c
by heavy tapestry curtain, and here
amid quantity of studio rubbish ant
sketches brought from Italy, was the
painting that had attracted Graziella's at
tention. She claSped her hands with
pleasure, while her breath came more anC
more quickly. and her great eyes dilatee
as though receiving a reflection from the
vivifying Italian SUI.
The whole attitude of the girl was tina
Of ecstasy. ooh, it is that! 1t is that
she murmured. 1.-The laurel trees, the
wild chestnut behind the hill, where tic
boys play mora aud, blessed Maria ! tho
very houses are there. even The one wher,
was born How beautiful it is! how
happy it makes me to see nv countr,
again All, il could only remain looking
at it forever!
The girl had fallen on her knees as be
fore Madonna, repeating to herself:
GLOW lovely it is 1t seems as though
| must be back in Sorrento, and Salvatore
must be coming TO meet me was colo
little while ago: now am warm. fec
he sun upon the canvas, which sparkle.
in the tree-tops and on the sea. 1t is beau
tiful, so beautiful I"
Grazicla was so absorbed in the con
temptation of the picture and the memo
ries it called forth that she did not notice
the entrance of Frederic. who gently ap
preached her. and after listening with
thoughtful tace to her enthusiastic mono
logne. touched her cheek with trembling